Wicked Stephandler
by Catii'aSofii'a
Summary: After the Battle of Manhattan, the partners try to come to terms with their handler's death and accept the "wicked stepmother". But is it necessary? Clintasha. Natasha/Phil/Clint friendship.


**I needed to write this so bad.**

**Summary:** _After the Battle of Manhattan, the partners try to come to terms with their handler's death and accept the "wicked stepmother". But is it necessary?_

* * *

Natasha sat on the bed of the guestroom of the Stark Tower. The Battle was won. But to what cost? She pursed her lips. "He's dead," she whispered.

Clint sat down next to her and snaked an arm around her shoulders. "I know," he nodded sadly.

"He was our best friend," she spoke, tears pooling at her eyes. "Now he's gone…what now?"

"We get the wicked stepmother," Clint chuckled quietly, referring to Agent Hill.

"Oh God," Natasha buried her head in her hands. "It's really true, he's really gone, Clint…"

"It was a long day. Let's lay down. Rest! Tomorrow is another day."

Natasha nodded and both got ready for bed. She could face Coulson's death tomorrow…couldn't she?

* * *

Two months have gone by and Maria was reaching a point where she wanted to quit. Being the Black Widow and Hawkeye handler was more tiring than running the Helicarrier herself. Hell, she would rather engage in another battle with a lunatic God. They were giving her grey hairs. They completely ignored protocol, broke almost every single rule in SHIELD's book and wouldn't follow instructions. How Coulson tamed them, was beyond her.

"I'm very disappointed in you," she started.

Natasha and Clint were sitting at the conference room's table, and Maria was at the head, glaring at them.

"Like it wasn't enough the havoc you two create in your missions, you join forces to scare off eighty percent of the recruits."

"If they got scared, they are not SHIELD material," Natasha shrugged.

"Quiet, Romanoff, didn't ask your opinion," Maria snapped. "The point is that recruiting or interviewing recruits, it's not in your job definitions."

"We were bored," Clint frowned. "We thought we would help."

"I don't need your help," Maria growled. "I need to find recruits and you two are not the first persons I want to introduce to the newbies. They already come here without a complete backbone, you probably made them pee in their pants."

"I saw one of them cry," Natasha smirked.

"But making men cry is your thing," Clint grinned.

"I had it with both of you," Maria yelled frazzled.

"That's good, it means that I can have my Agents back," a smooth, calming voice said from the entrance door.

Clint and Natasha shot up from their seats. "Coulson?" They asked in unison.

Maria walked to her fellow agent and glared behind her back. "All-fucking-yours…" she turned around and left.

Phil chuckled. "Now, what did I say about being nice to Maria?"

"That we shouldn't do it?" Clint quipped with a wide, happy smile.

"That son of bitch lied to us," Natasha realized. "I'm going to kill him!"

"You can't kill the Director, Tasha," Phil smiled.

"Watch me," she narrowed her eyes.

"Natasha, it was better this way, believe me," Phil said, stopping Natasha from committing a crime that Phil was sure would have a line to be executed. "It's great to see you both again."

"I'm so glad you are alive," Natasha breathed and surprised everyone by hugging Phil very tightly. "But next time you want to fake your death, don't lie to me, because you will end up not needing to fake it anymore…" she said with a sweet smile, putting some distance between them.

"Threat received, Agent Romanoff," Phil nodded.

"At least we can go back to do missions without having that shrill voice in our ears ranting or yelling…she needs to practice some yoga…" Clint shook his head, patting Phil's back.

"After dealing with both of you? She needs a vacation," Phil snorted.

Natasha and Clint just stood here – the epitome of innocence.

"I want a report on every mission completed after the Battle of Manhattan. Tomorrow. On my desk," Phil requested, getting all business.

"Ok, but just because you didn't die…when that wears off, don't expect me to type much," Clint sighed, dragging his feet.

"I'm really happy you're back, Coulson," Natasha whispered.

"Yeah, I missed this. Hospital sucks, now I know why you hate it so much," Phil grinned.

"Reports will be ready," she smiled, following Clint.

Phil sighed and looked around the bridge. It was good to be back.


End file.
